


Shadows Exist Only Where Light is Found

by Elementalist



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 21:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elementalist/pseuds/Elementalist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunshine hair, giggling words, and a half-smoked joint fallen asleep in an ashtray. Yeah. It's one of those days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadows Exist Only Where Light is Found

"Your hair looks like it's made of sunshine."

Gary touches his hair in question, contemplating, then looks down at Stan, who's smiling giddy I'm-too-high-for-this smiles, blue-blue eyes half-lidded and faraway. There's a half-smoked joint resting in the ashtray beside them, a temptation, though Gary won't touch it, as both of them knew.

"Sunshine is it?" He absently brushes it back, hooking a longer strand behind his ear. It's grown too long for his tastes and was in dire need of a trim.

Trimming sunlight, he muses, and there comes his own smile at the thought.

Stan shifts, falls into him, grinning, always grinning, and speaks in a voice suffocated by suppressed laughter. "Yeah! Sun _shine_. You look like sun _shine_."

He starts laughing so hard, giggling, guffawing at his own observation, that he tips forward and, somehow, lands up on the floor, head in Gary's lap, far too close to unmentionable regions than he could take comfort in.

Cheeks aflame, pink like windburn, Gary pushes at him, trying to make him move. Stan doesn't, transformed into a cat now, pleased at his new location, mouth a lynx, eyes narrowed like a tiger.

Gary, prey. Helpless beneath that feline strength and superiority. 

With a sigh, he stops, taking up the task of running his fingers through Stan's hair instead, trying to ignore the grins, the vibrating laughter, the sinful _nearness_.

Stan's hair runs like black silk through his fingers, crafted by the minions of midnight and darkness. A contrast to the golden light of his own. Amusing.

Brave, he tells him that, tells him, "If mine is sunlight, then your hair is made of shadows."

This seems to please Stan even more. He cracks open a dark blue eye--the color of twilight--and stares up into Gary's lighter blues--sky blues, cloudless and bright.

"That makes sense." By now, even his words are smiling, laughing things--living, breathing, creatures in his mouth. "Shadow only exists where light does."

Later, when Stan had fallen into a drug-induced dose, Gary pondered his words and wondered just what exactly did he mean by them.


End file.
